Ten Snapshots
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: Ten EdxAlfons stories for my claim at the 10 prompts livejournal community. All ratings and genres. M to be safe, though.
1. Überkompensation

**Überkompensation—"Overcompensation"**

**Title:** "Überkompensation—Overcompensation"

**Genre: **Gen/Angst/Kinda-romancey

**Rating: **PG-13 for content.

**Warnings: **Past self-mutilation…in a sense.

**Prompt: **Prompt 9: Cleaning

**Pairing: **Edward Elric x Alfons Heiderich

**Words: **740

* * *

_Evil may only be able to be cleansed through fire, but suffering can only be healed with love. _

Jennifer Pastor

* * *

Alfons would always take too long in the shower; soap on skin and scrubbing _hard_, scrubbing to where white skin would turn red under the bathroom light. It was a ritual—something to make him feel better as the pain burned his chest and he could feel the blood start to choke up and out of his mouth, only to be washed away by the water swirling at his feet and into the drain.

Was it soothing?

No. Not at all. It hurt, and it burned him—scorched him.

Did he enjoy it?

…No.

Why?

…He didn't know.

Tonight's shower was no different—Alfons, desperate, scrabbled at his skin, grabbing the washcloth and nearly attacked it; he winced at the feeling of the burn, the sting, against the hot water coming down from the jets, nearly covering him whole, but he didn't stop.

He could hear Winry and Alphonse talking faintly nearby outside the door; it was quiet, and it was hard for him to hear exact words, but it wasn't exactly like he was listening. The language of this world was strange, akin to yet completely different from the German that he knew. It was closest to English, and that in itself was Germanic, but there was another strange sound to Edward's tongue, something that Alfons himself couldn't understand, even through the lessons he received and his own growing understanding of the language.

Like everything else in this world, it was inconceivable.

Like the soap here; back home it was a small bar, thick and hard and impossible to maneuver even when _wet_…but…this soap was a much larger bar, and it seemed as if it had a strange grip on it, allowing him to hold onto it easier with his large hands. Or the milk, which was sweeter and more like sugar than _milk_…Edward hated sweet things, so it was no surprise that he hated the stuff…but…

Alfons sighed, and his scrubbing slowed, down to a light lather.

He wasn't bleeding.

He wasn't coughing.

He didn't have a pain to overcompensate for the burns on his skin from the cloth, or the clawmarks that he would give himself from overzealous cleaning. One said that if one hurt themselves in another spot while already being in pain, the new pain would overshadow the old pain, making the subject forget the old in place of the new. Would forget the chest pain, forget the coughing…in place of burning.

Hot, hot burning…

But that wasn't necessary now.

He didn't even have a pain that he needed to overcompensate. No chest pain that he needed to forget, no blood he needed to try to erase from his mind—

Right about now he might have thought _spoke too soon_ as the blood came up, coming out of his mouth and down onto the floor of the shower stall, leaving Alfons on his knees as he kept coughing and coughing and coughing, and Edward would keep banging and banging on the door in worry until he all but broke it down, lifting Alfons roughly by the shoulders and _carrying_ him out, putting him down in bed and sitting by his side until he fell asleep, growling at him if he ever tried to make an attempt at conversation.

He waited for it…

Waited for it…

Closed his eyes tight until they _hurt_, clenching his fists, not caring if he broke the soap bar under his fingers (Edward could repair it later with Alchemy if he broke it—he wasn't too worried about that)…

…Nothing happened.

He opened them up…slowly…staring in front of him.

Moldy green tile turned to clear blue, and a rusty showerhead changed to a clean silvery one, shining in the light that shone above him and illuminated the entire bathroom. The ugly yellow shower curtain now was blue, with an orange kitten print dancing across it…

And there was a hand on his shoulder, in place of the lonely gust of air that would have embraced him from behind, sucking him dry and leaving him cold and shivering.

Warm.

Soothing.

Real.

_Alive_.

Alfons smiled to himself at that moment, running a hand through soaked wheat locks and turned, slowly, behind him.

"Hey," the voice whispered, and the hand clamped down a bit. "You okay?"

"Yeah, Edward..." Alfons whispered back, "I am now."


	2. Katzenaugen

**Katzenaugen—Cat's Eyes**

**Prompt: **4—Battle

**Genre: **Humor

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"Edward, would you please stop glaring at her? She's not going to steal your food and she is not going to attack your clothes or chew on your automail, so I'd appreciate it if you left the poor girl alone. Alphonse really wanted this cat—do you really wish to make him unhappy by making the cat so sad that she has to run away to get away from you?"

As the pretty, nice man with short hair spoke, the mean long-haired Edward-man snorted, grunting and turning away before eating his strange human-food again.

The Edward-man was always very rude to her—Amber only wanted to play, but he would never play with her. Not ever. He'd yell at her and growl at her, telling her to go away and that she was an annoying little furball pest. She was not a pest—she just wanted to play with him. Master-Alphonse always told her that if she was lonely and she didn't have any socks to play with, to just play with the Edward-man, because he had a ponytail that she could bat and mess with and it felt just like a sock, though it was more silky and not so fluffy like a sock was. But Master-Alphonse told her that it was perfectly okay to play with him…so why was he so angry at her all the time? Amber thought he was just being stingy with his hair. And with everything else, for that matter.

Now the short haired man…the Alfons-man. He was nice. He would play with her and feed her and sometimes even sing to her when Master-Alphonse wasn't around, and would comfort her whenever the Edward-man was mean to her, scolding him and punishing him. Amber liked him a lot, but the Alfons-man was the Edward-man's mate (She saw it, she saw it…on the couch they weren't wearing those weird furs called 'clothes', and they were all red and sweaty and the Edward-man mounted the Alfons-man and started mating with him), and she would have to fight the Edward-man to be the Alfons-man's mate.

But how did that work, exactly? They both had things, right? Her father had had a thing…only it was hidden under his fur so she couldn't see it too well…But they also both had holes that you could stick the thing in…but did that mean that the Alfons-man could have kittens? That wasn't fair. Amber wanted to have the Alfons-man's kittens…they'd be nice and pretty and they'd look like him, too. Maybe even have a purr like him. Well…he speaks human-talk and Amber understood him, but she couldn't talk like a human could so she could only respond in purrs and soft murmurs.

Did the Edward-man purr to the Alfons-man when they were courting? They licked each other and nuzzled each other (though they wouldn't do it when Master-Alphonse was around…which was weird 'cause her mom and dad used to do it around everybody, even after she was born), but the Edward-man was just so rude and mean that it made Amber sad.

She had hopped up on the table, taking a look down at the Edward-man's food.

Why was he holding it back? She didn't want human-food…Master-Alphonse always gave her yummy kitten food, which probably tasted better than icky greasy human food.

"Alfons," the Edward-man complained, "The cat's after my food again."

"She's not after your food Edward," Yeah! You tell 'im! "She's just curious."

"But Alfons…"

"Edward, it's fine. Really."

Why couldn't she have someone like the Alfons-man? Someone nice and sweet-smelling and had broad shoulders for her to climb on? She took a quick hop onto the kitchen counter and stood nearby him, tilting her head and looking at him questioningly.

But he was too busy talking to the Edward-man to notice her.

Well, she wasn't about to give up.

She was going to make the Edward-man and the Alfons-man not be mates anymore…and the Alfons-man was going to be her mate from now on.

Though competing with the Edward-man would be hard. She was tiny and she was furry and didn't have a thing to mate with the Alfons-man with…but he had a thing, too, didn't he?

So that meant he could mate with her, too!

"Oh, Amber…you shouldn't be on this counter sweetie, you're going to get hurt."

And she was scooped up in his big warm arms, and he stroked her head gently before she was set down on the living room couch cushions, and the Alfons-man ran back to go be with his mean Edward-man mate again.

The Edward-man wouldn't win against her.

After all…he called her 'sweetie'.


End file.
